The Fragile Triumph

We wake as gods with trembling hands,

Our thrones are built on fleeting dreams.

In trying to transcend our sands,

We stumble deeper into schemes.

We strive for love yet fear its weight,

Each blessing shadows its own cost.

Our victories come disguised as fate,

And every gain recalls what’s lost

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We chase the light through fear’s disguise,

Our doubts become the proof we seek.

The soul grows strong through what it dies,

And faith resounds when reason’s weak.

The mirror cracks to show us whole,

In shards we find the self we feign.

Our pride must break to free the soul,

And loss becomes the soul’s terrain.

For truth is born when lies decay,

We learn to see through ruin’s art.

The wound becomes the only way

To show the mercy of the heart.

So bless the flaw, the fleeting breath,

The limit we attempt to hide.

For even love must borrow death

To prove eternity inside.

And where despair begins to rise,

Forgiveness blooms like dawn anew.

The heart, once fractured, now replies—

The fragile was the holy view.

RSP

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DCG